Dear Diary
by SleepiiLuv
Summary: One-shot, this is mostly all details. no specific story plot and a bunch of word vomit. Contains suicidal thoughts (I guess?), no suicide but the eventual death of the main character. Sorry in advance if it sucks. Rated M for thoughts of death, thoughts of Suicide and such. Also just to be sure it's not against anything


**AN/So I've kinda hit a rough patch. I'm working on my other stories, I promise!**

 **I've just been having a rough, erm, life**

 **this is just something I used to get my frustrations out.**

 **Enough of my chatter lets start this**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia at all! Cause if I did then there'd be more yaoi moments!**

* * *

 _August_ 28th _, 2009_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _I think about my death constantly_

 _But it's not like I'm suicidal_

 _Odd way to start my first diary entry isn't it?_

 _My grandfather gave me this for my birthday,... but what do I write?_

 _My life isn't as fun as everyone else's_

 _But I'll give it a go I guess_

Don't expect many entries!

* * *

The Vargas family wasn't perfect, no one on earth was really. The adults worked way too much and the children didn't socialize enough. Felicia Vargas was the middle child of her family and in her opinion, everyone else worked too darn much. From her point of view, her sister was the smartest person alive, if a little mean. Her little brother was a young protege, though he was a little cold towards everyone that wasn't his mother. Her mother was the kindest person she knew, but she was, a little naive to things like love and people. Her father,... he was another story.

Felicia had no reason to feel sad, so she smiled. She wanted for nothing, she didn't need to when her parents, when her mother worked so hard for them. Felicia didn't want to feel the way she did, she knew about the children in other countries, she knew of the people of the streets, she constantly heard the same stories.

Either do your best or don't but if you don't then you're better off dead.

Felicia, despite being a hyperactive baby, was shy and antisocial as a child.

This could be for various reasons. It could be her sudden transfer from one elementary school to another, it could be the lack of girl-friends growing up, it could even be the fact that her parents were rarely home.

Her childhood wasn't bad. She was never bullied, she never even witnessed bullying. Her parents weren't at all abusive, not like those she's seen in movies. But she was lonely, she was so , so lonely.

"Hey! My names Beatris! What's your name?"

They met in fifth grade. He was a transfer student from who knows where but at this point, Felicia didn't care.

"Felicia! Nice to meet you!"

Felicia was scared of losing her friendship, so she didn't everything she was told, even if she sometimes didn't want to. She'd stand by as she joked with the one boy she had a crush on, like it was nothing.

"Hey crooked feet! Try kicking the ball straight for once!" She'd yell.

The boy would look up and glare at her. "Shut up Bea! " he'd reply. The two would continue to bicker, forgetting she was even there.

The boy lived in her apartment building, his sister was her sister's best friend. But he never saw her. The last time they had talked, or even played together was when they were 6 years old.

Felicia and Beatris separated way when they moved up to middle school. Beatris moved away , while Felicia went to the nearest middle school.

And then began a whole new set of problems.

Puberty.

Girls were scary creatures when they went through puberty. They suddenly wanted to be pretty, skinny, popular. Felicia didn't know why it was so important.

She drifted past her middle school years, not really seeing what was happening, not really remembering anything taught in her classes. In doing so she didn't grow up like most of her classmates did. She didn't make bonds, no close ones like girls would usually make.

She did, however found out about cutting.

Two of her friends, the word 'friends' was used loosely to her, had always complained about their parents.

"They're so f*cking annoying, I swear"

The girls wore black, even though one was blonde, the two looked entire goth, or 'emo' as some would say. Felicia was the odd one out in this little group. Though she never wore any bright colors so she fit right in.

"I wish I had parents who didn't f*cking care so much!" called one.

"Hell yeah!" called the blonde.

Felicia just wished she could have those kinds of parents. At theirs weren't always busy.

She'd always see the scars on her friends but never asked. She had figured it out one day while watching cartoons, oddly enough, when one character made a joke about cutting.

Though she didn't really see it as a joke.

A month before their culmination to High school her friends had wanted to try something.

"It's a blood sisters pact! We could be blood sisters!"

The point was to cut a shape into their skin, in this case their wrists, and combine their blood. It sounded completely unsanitary to Felicia but she said nothing.

She refused to cut however. It didn't matter to her that her friends called her a wuss, or whatever. Her mother would feel devastated if she cut.

She eventually cut ties with the girls when one left for her home country while the blonde began to ignore her completely.

When she started high school it was like she was an alien in a new planet. Girls often spoke of a famous idol but Felicia had no way of connecting with them. She lost herself in comic books and cartoons instead.

How is she supposed to grow up? Has she lost her chance?

October 21 2011

Dear Diary,

It's been so long since I've written in this. Is it bad that I have no motivation?

I constantly get told how great my art is, but how is that supposed to help me in school?

My parents are urging me to get good grades for college, for a good career.

But what do I study for?

I'm not good at anything! Not like Sakura or Monica are!

I'm tired of making others feel better…..

Why was I born again?

* * *

Felicia's family is very religious. Much so that the three children were pulled into what Felicia dubbed as 'church school' during their childhood. Her sister, being much older, had gone and done her classes in her father's hometown in italy, but Felicia and her brother had to make due with a church near their house. Since their parents didn't want to send them away.

Plus they didn't have enough to anyways.

Even with the extra classes and school, Felicia couldn't make any friends. She didn't know, or understand what was wrong with her. Had god made her defective somehow?

When Felicia had first started her extra classes at the age of 8, she had prayed for a friend, a companion. She prayed for her family's happiness, she prayed so she wouldn't feel alone.

But for some reason unknown to her, even God ignored her existence.

Her prayers never got to him, he never heard them. Maybe she wasn't being loud enough? Had her faith waned somehow?

By the time Felicia turned 15, she had lost all faith.

But no one noticed behind her cheerful smile.

* * *

June 20 2014

Dear Diary,

I'm graduating tomorrow!

I can't believe I actually did it to be honest!

It's all so surprising!

But now there's something else i gotta jump through.

College

Can I really survive that?

Can I really surpassed her?

Should I try?

* * *

Felicia's sister Chiara was the model child, to an extent. To Felicia she was smart, strong, athletic, but her sister married and left home at the age of 18, no longer able to stand being under the same roof of her father.

Their mother's beautiful smile died a little the day she left, and Felicia didn't understand why her mother never smiled like that for her. Her mother began working more, she'd buy her brother expensive games and toys, all because the boy had good grades. They never fell passed a B.

No such thing as favorite child indeed.

At this point in her life Felicia had stopped caring, she needed to get her degree, she needed to get a job. She needed an escape.

But no matter how many times she took her classes, she could never get out. Why couldn't she pass them? She studied all night. She went to her classes. Why couldn't she move forward?

Four years later she was still in the same place. Four years later, she was still nothing.

Her art was better, but how did that help with getting a job?

Her brother would soon join her and she still hadn't moved on from college freshman.

Maybe she should jump….

* * *

Dear Diary

It's been four, five? , years since graduation…

I'm the worst type of person…

I'm useless. But I'm a good punching bag right?

A good shoulder to cry on…

What would happen if I died?

Who would cry?

I'm sure any person with suicidal thoughts would probably think this right?

Or is it just me?

Maybe I should die….

Why was I born?

Can someone please tell me?

I hate being alon-

* * *

As she grow older, nothing really changed. Felicia had decided to start an 11 month career college and abandon her earlier path. She studied and finally got her diploma in something, a degree in something more. But it never felt like she was an adult.

Sure she had bills and she eventually moved out but she returned right after.

Her mother had finally moved on from her father but she couldn't live alone. So Felicia, being the only one of the three children who cared enough, took her mother in.

She didn't mind, it was all she was good for anyways.

She constantly thought of death, she'd think of ending it all with a kitchen knife while cooking, or drinking a bottle of pain pills.

She just didn't want to live anymore

But she was scared

Scared of the pain.

Pain was the reason she never cut

Pain was the reason she was still alive.

During high school she had made plans, wishes, dreams.

But then reality hit

really hard

with a sledge hammer

She didn't make enough for trips around the world every summer. She didn't make enough to buy her mother a house or hire a maid or a nurse for her sickly mother.

She wasn't even worth enough, pretty enough to be a slut or a prostitute.

She couldn't dance

She couldn't sing

She could barely write

She sucked at math

She couldn't work

She wasn't good at anything but art….

Who would care if she died?

* * *

"-year old Felicia Valencia Vargas was found dead this afternoon when the woman, as told by witnesses, walked right into speeding traffic! Police said the driver was so drunk he missed the poor woman entir-"


End file.
